


Breathe Deep, and Descend

by RichmanBachard



Category: Final Fight (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Clubbing, Copious Loads, Creampie, Declarations Of Love, Deepthroat, Desk Sex, F/M, First Time Bottoming, Flirting, Fluff, Futa, Glory Hole, Groping, Handcuffs, Hints of fluff to come, Lots of wrestling talk and terminology, Morning Sex, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Angst, Teasing, Wrestling, among other things, blowjob, slow build-up, world-building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-05-30 22:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichmanBachard/pseuds/RichmanBachard
Summary: A guy goes clubbing one night, what follows is your average, good ol’ bit of glory hole goodness.Or is it?





	1. Chapter 1

The atmosphere of the club washed over Jason in droves, drawing out in him just as much tension as there was a sense of ease. The music was loud, obnoxiously so, yet the beat was to his liking. The club goers were varied and numerous, most dancing to mixed degrees of success, failure, and the fine line in-between.

In truth, Jason couldn’t quite recall why he had come here. A buddy offered, showering the club with praise – and other friends had agreed, the guy needed to unwind, to lighten the proverbial load. And, though he wasn’t one for drinking, he did hold a particular affinity for the dance. His friends didn’t share that confidence in his own abilities, but he didn’t care, he would persist – the urge to bust a move remained a tangible, needed urge. And above all, to lose oneself in the sea of colorful light, brushing up and against other dancers cast in a stage.. was a flavorful idea. On his way in, he caught wind of a drug being passed around, too, at least for some. Unable to specify which, his mind had gone places in filling that particular gap. _Just like in the movies,_ he thought.

Remaining pure of heart, he opted to take his spot on the dance-floor sober as can be. And, like clockwork, the beat slowly overtook him. Like a virus, it swallowed him whole. What followed was a beast of another kind. In the droves of other club-goers, he wasn’t alone. Dozens of dancers bounced and rubbed, several brushing up against him – most being alluring women, and some damn handsome men. Jason couldn’t help but squirm. On that floor, his nerves twisted, which ushered in the loss of rhythm in his feet. 

Having pulled himself free of the horde, he took a breath. In the crowd he had spotted several colorful characters, including one who had danced along the corner of his eye. Her hot pink hair made for a sight he couldn’t forget. She soon disappeared from his sight, vanishing into the crowd. He paid it no mind, and instead, headed to the bar. Ignoring the growing hardness in his jeans, he cursed at himself. 

In truth, he felt tense and frustrated, in that very particular way.

Jason needed to get _laid._

His hand wasn’t cutting it anymore, he lacked the funds for a toy, and was far too shy to request the services of a sex worker. Revel in his plentiful, miserable angst instead? That was the plan. Poor as it was. At the very least, there were enough hot people at the club who were open to a mild bout of grinding and groping. 

Now, in the wake of that plan backfiring, Jason wallowed in his discomfort and self-pity. His current condition had worsened, but at the very least it remained considerable ammunition for his inevitable session with Rosy Palm later tonight. Her five sisters would have their work cut out for them. 

In the past few months, his sexuality had come into question. Videos online lead to several other, deeper rabbit holes. To him his justification was whatever could make him cum harder than he had before. Girls, girls on girls, guys on guys, threesomes, the allure and anonymity of glory-holes.. the thought made him stir. He came here to dance, not to fuck.

Yet when the bartender shot him a look, the gaze of her icy blues digging into his core, she could read it all over his face. “You okay, doll?” she asked, pouring him a drink. 

Finally looking at her, he waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll be,” he lightly winced, getting his words across despite the loudness of the music, “I’ll be okay.. I’m just-“

“Frustrated.”

He responded in kind with a lazy thumbs-up. “Y’all know how to make a White Russian?” he asked in earnest. “Heard.. h-heard those were pretty good.”

With a flick of her skilled wrist, the glass slid his way. In his admiration of the umbrella she coyly added, she followed it with a coy look. “Not one for clubs, are ya?” His hesitant nod made for simple confirmation. “I get it,” she replied, cleaning out another glass before supplying another two customers with several beers.

As she turned to tend to other clubbers, he eyed her frame. Those icy blue eyes contrasted with her toned, ebony skin. Her chest busty, bountiful, with a generous amount of cleavage on display. She was tall and stacked, looked like she could kick his ass. _Perfect,_ he thought.

She could feel his eyes on her. She couldn’t blame him, for he was hardly the first. She turned back, indulging him slightly as she leaned forward, pressing her elbows against the counter. “Mind if I ask you another question?”

Nursing his drink with slow, savorful sips, he gave another confirming nod. “Be my guest.”

Pulling back slowly, her nimble fingers begun work on crafting another drink as she spoke. “Forgive me, but.. I saw you on the dance floor-“

“Nice moves, right?” Jason asked, his tongue, stuck firmly in his cheek.

“…yeah, sure.” Another bartender traded drinks out with her, before she continued. “I saw you out there.. it’s easy to get lost in it, rubbing up against all those ready and willing bodies. I look at you now, and.. I see it.”

“See what?”

Her tongue quickly dragged across her upper lip, wetting it before a small smirk creased her mouth. “Have another drink, on me, then hit up the bathroom. Friend of mine might be able to help with that.”

“What the f-“ His words stammered as cognition dimmed. Flicking his nose, he set his empty glass down. “Who? What friend?”

Like clockwork, an instant refill slid its way back over to him. Washing away his minor disbelief, Jason was not one to waste free things. “Whatever you say, Pretty Lady.” With a click of the mouth, he pointed at her then motioned a cheer before throwing another drink back. 

——————-

His erection remained, painful in its confinement as he waddled over to the bathrooms. Nearing the entrances, his eyes briefly glossed over the leeway into the women’s – and the sounds of wet slaps and moans therein. His cheeks flushed red, as he stumbled into the men’s. Once more, the sounds of carnal delight filled his ears. An occupied stall with two sets of feet, one behind the other, accompanied by moans and grunting. Pushing it out of his mind, he refocused solely on what would come next. Taking a piss. 

In the corner were two more stalls; one closed, one with its door slightly ajar. Slipping inside, he locked the door behind him. The sounds of muffled sex and muffled music mixing in tandem. Sloppily, his hands worked at his belt. “Oops, heh,” he mumbled, his fingers briefly slipping. Giving a shake of the head, his drunkenness was mild in comparison – but to him, well.. it didn’t take much. 

Controlling his erection, his bladder let loose and relief quickly followed. Cocking his head to the left, the wall was inscribed with several pieces of text – separate lines of colorful words and.. phrases. All of it, spiraling towards the entrance below – a hole. 

Jason looked at it through half-lidded eyes. 

Then he looked at it some more. 

“…oh shi-“

A knock came from the other end. “Hey, hotshot,” came a husky voice. “Got a delivery for me?”

Butterflies occupied the vacancy that once was the pit in his stomach. Swallowing hard, he flicked his cock twice. Not once, not thrice, lest he be playing with it. Simply twice. ..or so he thought, tipsily.

Yet he refrained from slipping his goods back in. 

“Uh.. um, I just – I, um, I just – I came here to d-dance.”

On the other end, his friend clicked her tongue. “I came here to suck cock,” the voice replied. “Think you could help me with that?”

Jason paused. “Er, ah.. sssure, I’m sure there’s a spare around here, uh-“

That earned him an honest laugh. “If you want, Hotshot.. stick what you got packin’ right through here, and I’ll handle the rest. If not, well.. I needed that laugh, so.. thank you kindly.”

He gave it thought, loudly humming. Anxiety clouded his mind for a brief moment. _What if this.. what if that._ But with his loins burning with desire, his intent quickly became clear. Despite not having a thing for drinking, he would thank the ounce of liquid courage in the morning. Stumbling back slightly, he controlled his stance and approached the glory hole. It was something he had only seen in videos, in stories online. In truth it lit a fire in his core, he loved glory-hole content. But to actually be there, to stand on the precipice between Rosy Palm and a warm, eager mouth.. decisions, decisions. 

Slumping forward, his cock poked through the hole. And in tow came a delicious-sounding coo. “Oooh.. not bad, Hotshot.” He flinched slightly as his hardware received an investigative poke. “Looks like you’ve been pent up, huh?”

He leaned his head against the wall of stall. A somber tone briefly overtaking his slurred speech. “Yes,” he confirmed, solemnly. Before more words could follow, a small gasp spilled from his lips as the tip of his cock received a kiss from a plush pair of lips. Then another, and then a trail of the tongue from the underside of the base all the way back up to his swollen glans. “Oh, fuck..” His doubts and dreams soon faded, all that mattered was this moment.

Another husky giggle. “Oop, you’ve got some, uh.. let me just-“ Her words faded as those plush lips enveloped the head of his cock, sucking the bit of small dollop of leftover urine. His moan was honest and soft as his friend began to bob back and forth across the head in earnest after that.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighed. And in seconds, those lips pushed forward. He cried out in a gasp as his cock pushed into the confines of her throat effortlessly. “Fuuuck!” he hissed as his cock remained there. Then her lips slid back. And subsequently swallowed him once more.

The oral assault continued, those plush lips masterfully pushing up against his base and sloppily pulling back. Drool spilling onto the floor as they braced their hands against their side of the wall. Her head pushed faster, sucking his cock down with force. 

“F-Fuc.. hey, he-hey, slow down..” Jason pled. Rather, he attempted to, his voice weak. It fell on deaf ears. His new friends’ assault was intense, unrelenting – as if his cum was air she desperately needed. With his cork soon to pop, he tried to hold on. So desperately, he wanted to. He missed this. The warm, tight, moist embrace of another. He wanted to resist, to draw the pleasure out for as long as was humanly possible. 

But his stamina, in the state he was in, was not long for this world. His orgasm neared. With force, he struggled to croak a word of warning to his compatriot. “H.. Hey, I.. I can’t, I..!” He moaned as the movements increased, knowing full well what was to come. 

In seconds, he climaxed, forced to cover his mouth with a free hand as he screamed. His compatriot moaned happily, guttural as thick, milky cum spewed from his sensitive head into her thirsty maw and throat. 

His other hand lightly banged on the wall once, twice.. there was so _much_ tongue and that constricting throat and, and.. 

_Fuck._

After what felt like an eternity of bliss, his orgasm faded. In that minute of bliss, he sighed with a new sense of relief. Leaning his forehead against the wall, his breathing soon slowed. “Thank you,” he said.

Like clockwork, a third giggle followed after they finished cleaning his cock. “No problem, baby,” she responded between her own soft moans and mild panting, “you needed it bad.”

“So did you,” he responded cheekily, which earned his softening tip another kiss. 

Then, another poke. “Maybe so.”

With reluctance, he pulled his cock free and sloppily stuffed it back into his pants. His words trailed as several more moans echoed from across the room, with louder slappings of flesh. “Do I.. pay you?”

There was a pause, which unnerved him slightly. “No, this is a hobby, not a paycheck. Just come back and see me..”

His loins stirred. “Yeah.. yeah, think I will. Got, uh.. got a name?”

He could hear her smile through the words. “Just enjoy your little dose of Poison, Hotshot.. see you around.”

Jason shivered as he left the stall, shaken to his core. Before his timely exit, he could faintly heard slick, lewd noises coming from her stall. 

He left the club shortly after. Giving the bartender a shy but earnest nod. Her smile said all that needed to be said.

He was definitely coming back.


	2. Courage, Both Liquid and Inner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason’s back for more. But will things fare the same as last?

“You’re a lightweight.”

“I’m not!!”

Amidst Lana’s jest, Jason had to give her – and the club – credit. The atmosphere that night remained thick with a particular kind of tension; saucy, high energy, full of zest. Much like Metro City itself, he supposed. For Jason, perhaps it had always been like this and he simply – finally – grew accustomed to its particular brand of décor and depravity. 

Or, perhaps, he tolerated it better knowing this was the place where a kind enough dame had gleefully sucked his soul out through his cock.

As he eyed the bartender, a mild shade of scarlet began to form on his cheeks as he recalled the event. Birds of a feather. “I’m not a lightweight, Lana,” he finally continued. “I’m just – I’m not big on this kind of stuff.”

She crooked her elbows, propping them against the counter as she shot him another coy look. “So why drink at all, hmm?” Her fingers scraped under her sharp chin, tapping with baby-blue colored nails. “Perhaps, out of some..”

He took an earnest sip, waiting for a beat. “Liquid courage,” he completed, “for when I see her again.” As the honestly spilled from his lips, he found himself surprised at his own, sudden candidness. 

_Ah._

Her lips curled into a small smile. “Thought so.” She leaned back, offering to make another few drinks for other bar goers. Jason remained dumbfounded by her skills, adept in the arts of drink-making and multi-tasking. _Sleight of hand,_ he mused. When she returned, she picked up right where they left off, finding him seeking comfort in his glass. “Just.. don’t overdo it, lest you desire to embarrass yourself more. Your dance moves do that already.”

His heart sunk at her comment, in spite of its snappy delivery. He feigned shock, placing a hand against his chest instead of his usual outburst of disbelief and denial. “You wound me.”

“She’s right,” came a voice off to the side — and in seconds that voice found a body, one that caught his attention. The flowing, hot pink hair. Her plentiful bust concealed via her tight, white tank top. Tight was the word he’d use to describe her generally, at least in a physical sense. Her snug jean shorts completed the look, with a.. pair of handcuffs affixed to them, curiously. A million thoughts raced through his mind at once – at the sight of her, the sight of that – so many things he wanted to say. How much of it would come out clearly? It was impossible to say.

“Hey, huh, wh-whu-“

He wanted to fling himself off the nearest bridge.

The pink-haired vixen flashed him a devious smile, then glanced towards the bartender. “Hi, gorgeous,” she said.

“Heya Poison,” Lana replied, briefly making a kissing noise in her direction. “Your usual?” 

Poison clicked her tongue, quickly pointing at her in confirmation. As she turned to make it, Lana stressed the intricacies of making the drink, drawing out its creation as her pink-haired friend refocused, regarding Jason. She fixed her shoulders, arching her back. “Hi there. My apologies.” She leant back slightly, offering a hand for him to shake. “Ms. Kiss, though.. my friends call me Poison.”

Jason lightly shook it, admiring the shade of pink adorning her nails. “What should I call you, then?” Her voice sounded familiar, striking a chord with him. In his previously drunken stupor, he could’ve sworn-

“That depends on how tonight plays out, Hotshot,” Poison said with an earnest smile. The sight of his eyes widening slightly made her stir. In seconds the requested drink slid her way, which she took and savored with a careful sip. “Mmm,” she moaned. “Tasty as ever, Lana. You’re delicious.”

“Don’t you mean the drink?” Her friend cheekily replied, as she tended to several more drinks. Poison responded in kind with a wink, then flittered her eyes back towards Jason whom, comparatively, felt very small in the moment. He hardly stifled a visible show of squirming, but he managed nevertheless. “I apologize for Poison here, Lightweight,” Lana admitted, returning to them. “She packs quite the punch.”

Jason hesitated, slipping more of his own drink past his lips. “That’s one way to put it.”

Poison took another sip. “I recall you using some.. rather different terminology a couple nights ago.” Lana clicked her tongue in kind, then waved a playful hand as she left to tend to other club-goers. Busy, busy. Jason swallowed hard, suddenly fearful in the wake of her absence. “How’ve you been, Hotshot?” Poison asked. Jason was in the lion’s den now. Oh, how he suddenly missed the lighthearted teasing of his old friend the bartender.

“I’m, uh – I’m good! I was just preparing to, er – preparing to-“ 

“Liquid courage, right?”

“Yes.”

The edges of her lips curled into a wry smirk. Propping an elbow atop the counter, she leaned her head onto her fist. “Am I everything you were hoping for?”

“Wh-“

“Are you _prepared?_ ” she coyly asked. Her eyes drifted up and down his moderate frame, then focused solely upon his lower half. The sultry sweet words continuing to spill from her lips. “Needing it _bad_ again, baby?” Staring him squarely in the face now, her smirk widened as his discomfort grew. “Think I’m that easy, do you?”

“N-No! I don’t-“

She pulled back, expelling a hearty laugh. He swiftly finished what little of his drink that was left amidst her delight. She then neared — leaning forward, very much into his personal space. Internally, he wanted to scream, but his face remained calm, cool. “You came back,” she responded sweetly, her touch drifting towards his knee. “So.. how much more of me do you want?”

He hesitated. “How.. how much-“

She gave him a look, which reddened his cheeks further. “If you’re up for it, of course,” she added. “Are you?” She leaned slightly back once more. “It’s.. okay, if not, I-“

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” He blurted, then covered his mouth. Muffled, he said, “Oh, god, I.. I’m sorry.”

She finished her drink, then slid off of her seat. Remaining close to him, she set her hands upon her hips. “Was I complaining?” She grabbed his hand, urging him to move. And so, the two headed off — as she lead him towards the bathrooms once more. By the bar, Lana saw them enter, a soft smile adorning her face.

———

The men’s bathroom was noticeably more quaint on this night. Much less rowdy than their previous tryst. Not that he minded. The sounds of sweet, depraved sex with whomever had only worked to rile him up further. Having been yanked into a vacant stall, he had long since made peace with relinquishing control to her. With a crashing of lips, hands – both his and hers – touched, rubbed, grasped at each other’s body. The club faded, the reality of the bathroom ceased; in that moment it was the two of them, overcome with a blissfully carnal desire. No smells but the scent of her. Sweet, with a hint of something.. salty, smokey. No fears, just eager anticipation.

In trading tongues, his hands roamed higher, hungry for her bosom. As his hands made contact, his tender squeezes were followed by a whimpering escaping from her throat, unbecoming of her prior nature. Throwing him back against the wall. Jason squirmed, relishing the feeling of her. Completely, fully. Poison kept him against the wall, her fingers reaching for his belt as one of his own hands moved south — in hopes to ensure it wasn’t as one-sided this time around.

When his hand reached her crotch he felt a hardening bulge, which surprised and aroused him in equal measure. A brief look of hesitance washed over her as they traded looks. 

“Holy shit,” Jason breathed. “Oh my god.”

Her hesitance persisted, until her fingers continued gingerly upon his belt. She bit her bottom lip, a blush of her own coming upon her cheeks. “I-It’s okay, Hotshot, I’ll - I’ll just-“

Jason stopped her advances, grabbing and holding her hands with care. Their eyes matched once more, and in that moment, time seemed to slow. In the matter of a mere week, his life seemed to have twisted. Not in a negative side of way, yet one that made him nervous all the same. This woman — she was alluring, captivating. He spoke with a soft smile. To proceed required the mustering of will. Yet liquid courage was not solely responsible for his next few words. “I like it, I just..”

His reaction softened her defense, her gaze relaxing into his own. “First time, huh, Hotshot?” She closed the gap as their lips met; partaking in a softer, more sensual kiss despite their prior sloppiness. 

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected her lips to his own. He gasped for air, responding with a solemn nod. “I want to..” He glanced at her, then peered around to see the glory-hole in the wall behind them. When he returned his gaze on her, it was a more determined look. “Can I suck your cock?” he asked, honest yet teasing. This wasn’t alcohol talking, this was purely out of curiosity, and _need._

Poison smiled. Her once softer approach fading, replacing with the familiar, heated lust from before. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” she replied, which made him chuckle. Planting a kiss on his cheek, she then left to inhabit the adjacent stall. He wiped at his mouth and breathed a small, shakey sigh. His eyes honed in on the glory-hole below. He neared it, lowering himself with a wince. His clothed knees readjusted, his discomfort shifting between realms of bearable to tedious. No matter, what came next would make it all worthwhile. 

Peeking through the hole, he was provided a show as she entered. On the other end: Poison, fluttering her fingers in a mild wave. Her hands grew hungry, opting to rub herself down — trailing up the taut core of her toned abdomen, leading up and over her plentiful bosom. With a sway of her hips, she presented her ass to him. The tightness in his pants returning itself to a familiar state, the last time he visited. Bent slightly, Poison undid the button of her jeans and then glanced over her shoulder as her thumbs drug the jeans down, unveiling her firm, bountiful ass. His mouth watered at the sight, and continued to do so as she kneaded her cheeks, spread them quickly, and then turned — unveiling her hard cock, hefty sack below, and the small tuft of pink hair above it all. He heard a faint ta-da on her end, which amused him. He could discern a touch of nervousness in her form, in the way she moved. 

In the moment, he desperately thought of what to say. Something fitting, something cool. “S-Stick.. stick what you got packing right through here, baby,” Jason repeated, teasingly. “And I’ll handle the rest.”

“This is..” Poison’s voice trailed with a small moan as she stuffed her sex through the hole. “It’s been a while.” Her breasts pushed against the wall of the stall, giving her a small shiver. As the chill worked its way down her spine, her apprehension slipped away — replaced with a thirst, a need for release. With a small whine her nails lightly scraped against the wall, bracing herself. “Oh god, suck it, baby. Please.” A small gasp escaped her as she felt a lick, tonguing her glans and the underside of her cock. Then she felt another, then one more. Jason’s tongue was sheepish, much less skilled — though it mattered little, for his persistence and enthusiasm would help usher her to the inevitable release. She only wondered how far he would go, how much of her pleasure he could take. 

Her dick was sizable, moreso than his own. It had initially added to the intimidating feel, but his horniness and the advent of liquid courage ensured that he would put his mouth to good use — to him, she deserved that much. Scary and silly as it all was, his novice efforts were a small price to pay for them both desiring the pleasures of the flesh. He captured her sensitive head between his lips, the feel of it in his mouth softer than he expected. What followed was the taste, her oozing pre lighting up the buds of his tongue with something vaguely sweeter than, say, his own, saltier supply. 

Not that he minded. 

Bobbing his lips back and forth across the head and several inches past it, he remembered to control his breathing. Though her mounting moans pushed him further, descending further into an uncontrollable lust. 

Drool spilled from his lips as he plunged further down her shaft, making use of his hands in twisting and massaging the base. Her coos and breathless encouragement egging him on.

His desire to push further, to take her into the back of his throat, was outweighed by his growing gag reflux. He pulled off her cock with a cough, spittle wetting his lips. The twitching of her sex with an incessant need.

Instead of proceeding with care, he drove forward with added fervor and swallowed her cock. With a loud moan on both sides, his pace grew relentless, and intense, in keeping with tradition. She didn’t dare complain, merely embraced the oncoming rush of bliss. His throat persisted, continuing its refusal to take her deeper — yet it mattered not, for her shakey moans and whispers of encouragement coming to a head.

“I’m, yea-yeah, I’m.. I’m-!” With a hitch in her panting, she banged against the wall as she climaxed. Jason’s mouth was flooded with the result of her pleasure, his cheeks ballooning with a copious load. Her moans would soon slow, as he struggled to pull back without spilling even a drop.

It failed, of course, with some of her cum dropping from his mouth. Her sex receded from the hole, slick and softening. After savoring the vaguely sweet, citrusy taste on his tongue, he tilted his head back to swallow it down in several, big gulps. His right hand caressed his stomach as the fluid slid down his gullet. 

“Blugh.. unh.. oh shit,” Jason breathed. “That was fuckin’, that – that was – god damn, babe-“

“Get up,” Poison quickly responded, urging him. “Get up and get your dick through here. Now.”

Not one to keep a lady waiting, he struggled to stand. Ignoring the mild ache in his knees, he swiftly undid his jeans, sloppily getting them down to free his own painfully hard cock. 

Glory-holes were growing to become one of his favorite things, ever. 

Stuffing his sex through the faintly slick hole, he awaited what would come next. Her soft, plush lips to inevitably return the favor, he was sure.

When he heard lewd, slick noises from the other end, his cock was coated with a wet hand—her touch slathering his sex with wetness. What followed took some preparation, but when he felt his tip prod a tighter, slick hole, a small gasp fell from his lips. “Poison, wait, you do-“ His gasps grew louder, mixing with her own as his cock slipped into her ass. With a groan, and some time, her ass soon clapped back, meeting the cold feel of the stall’s wall. 

Jason held on for dear life. In a short matter of time, this vixen had swooped in and gobbled him up. To say that it had been both figuratively, and literally, was unneeded. The situation spoke for itself as she fucked herself onto his cock with renewed vigor, her plush ass clapping back against the wall.

Next time he saw Lana, he’d had to give her a big smooch. This Poison gal was something else. With a belly full of hot girl cum, and his own sex wrapped in her sweet, tight, velvety vice.. he could agree: this club really had been up his alley.

The night was young, and he wasn’t sure what would come next. What mattered, though, was the here and now. And, now, all he wanted do was savor being up _her_ alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [@RichmanBachard](https://twitter.com/RichmanBachard) to keep up with me and my insanity.


	3. Good Morning, Wood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, something begins to blossom between our two lovers.

Specks of sunlight had peaked their way through the blindfolds, glistening upon now half-lidded eyes. With a mild groan, alertness would soon return to his form, filling Jason’s senses out as he stretched—his limbs spreading unto unfamiliar sheets, atop an unfamiliar bed. Blinking in the sights and smells, the atmosphere differed considerably to what he was used to. Propping hisself upon his elbows, his head lazily glanced from side to side, drinking in the view of the bedroom he found himself in.

The rooms decorum fared considerably well despite his novice eye for such a skill. It maintained a sense of relative fanciness, while managing to hold a _lived-in_ feel. Casual, yet well-kempt. His hands slid to and fro upon the silk, ruby-colored sheets which adorned the bed – the mattress itself a heavily threaded one which comforted his form quite well. The pillows, why, he found them much better than the ones he had at home – their feel more like a piece from the clouds above; stolen and repurposed, fluffy and sweet. A small part of him wanted nothing more than to wrap himself betwixt its silky embrace yet again and sleep, sleep for, say, another six months. Any other day, he would have. Responsibilities be damned.

His soft sigh had signaled the opposite. He couldn’t. Nay, he _wouldn’t._ More than that, curiosity drove him forward, plucking away at the quiet in his mind. 

He withdrew from the nest reluctantly, tossing the sheets aside to commence his investigation. Ever the Holmes in his own mind, he began to inspect the finer qualities of his current, private chambers. The walls were lined with a collection of items — photographs, memorabilia, paintings, and so on — all which led to a spacious window-sill, with those same blinds ushering in the sunlight that woke him earlier. Pulling two folds apart via curious fingers, the sight unveiled to him a penthouse view of the town. Metro City looked so.. vast and pristine from atop such a high rise. He pushed the thought, the sight, from his mind, however, and headed over to further inspect some of the items upon the same wall he had previously been eyeing. In one of the photographs he began to ogle, was none other than the pink-haired beauty herself. 

Immediately, his mind was filled to the brim with the sweet embrace of sheer, utter _remembrance._ Her soft smile, caring yet devilish eyes, her choice of words, her candor, her tits-

He wanted to gulp, to swallow back the sudden, encroaching anxiety and apply himself more productively. Questions would inevitably come, he was sure. But the anxious feeling in his gut was not in response to her. Rather, at himself. He awoke with morning wood. _The usual,_ he mused. His recollection had only worsened his condition. And so, in his mixture of anxiety and arousal, a sight had distracted him — inside the frame of the picture, she was a touch younger, emoting a gesture at the camera, but she was alongside someone – an Auburn-haired dame who was comparatively shorter, (though not by much), with a slightly less muscular physique too—though her style of clothing fared similar. Across the bottom half of the photograph lay scribbled text, labeled _New Beginnings._

Not one to pry for very long, he pushed on with a rub of the chin. A small smile creased his lips before he continued to look around, glancing over towards the nightstands on either side of the bed. The two held many things – a clock, some water, a phone hooked to its charger, a lava-lamp—which brought a fuller smile to his expression, goofy and honest—and, lastly for the table on the right, lay a bottle of lubricant. 

His loins burned at the sight, his mind recalling further the events of the previous night. Before, it all seemed a blur but now, a sense of clarity had filled in the notable gaps. A flurry of skin, of heat and sweat and other, more scrumptious, juices. A night of groans and whimpers, the clapping and kneading of firm, soft flesh. The sea of pink. Her tits and her ass and her cock; it all had blended together but he could _feel_ it, the passionate aftershocks of their lovemaking having racked his core. 

In the background had been a noise the entire time, one he hadn’t particularly focused on until that very moment. The sound of running water and soft coos. That, mixed with the continued reality of an erection as hard as a rock as well as his curious prodding, hit him quick. “Oh, sh-“ He bolted, sliding back under the silky covers. In part, he justified it due to his lazy disposition and desire for further sleep. Though the sheet tented slightly from his aroused sex, he paid it no mind despite the growing blush across his cheeks. Another sound briefly caught his attention, a meow. Somewhere, a feline drew closer — with its own sense of curiosity. His eyes couldn’t quite track it, so he went to check his phone. In the moment, all he could think of was—

When her athletic frame filled the sill of the adjacent door, naked and in the process of drying. _Poison,_ he thought. _Wet, er.. wetter, drying off, looking at me. Oh, shit._ His thoughts slurred, unsure of how to proceed. 

Poison took the lead as she came into better view. Her body was as beautiful as ever, and he softened in her presence – though not everywhere. “Hey handsome,” she cooed, applying the finishing touches of her towel’s purpose before briefly letting it droop from a muscled forearm. “Sleep well?” Her furry friend had appeared, leaping atop the nearby dresser to rub against her. She scratched behind its ears with her free hand.

He gave a nod. She smirked.

“Good,” she replied. She clicked her tongue twice, and the cat dropped down from the dresser, disappearing from his sight. Now, only she filled his cone of vision. Gripping the towel once more, she turned and tussled her drying hair with it before laying upon the crook atop the bathroom door. As she moved, his eyes followed her every motion and sway. He forced himself to disregard the sight and instead check the time on his phone.

11:33 AM

“Wow, I.. I really wasn’t expecting to wake this early. My sleeping schedule’s kinda..”

“Fluctuates, doesn’t it?” She smiled. “Mine does too. Part of the job.”

“Yeah.. fluctuates. Part of me likes it, part of me doesn’t.” He made a _so-so_ motion with his hand. “Y’know how it is.”

Despite her nakedness, she treated it as casual as if they were clothed. High up in an apartment like this, away from prying eyes, he couldn’t complain much as she gave her limbs a stretch. Then, she returned to the bathroom to fetch something. The sight of her body made him stir; the toned muscle of her abs, her plump, pierced breasts, her thick legs. The reptilian part of his brain desired nothing more than for her to crush him to death, right then and there. It would have been preferable to confronting his own anxieties. Then again.. the other part of him desired six months of sleep. 

Of the two, he knew which he’d pick.

They then spoke aloud, in unison. “Hey, so, uh—“ A pause, then several awkward chuckles. He urged that she go first, and so she did. “Hey,” she started, leaving the bathroom once more with that familiar confidence in her voice. “I know this is weird and I’m rather..” She motioned towards herself and he nodded in kind, understanding. “But if you would prefer to go, be my guest.” With her solemn words and tender approach, it had thrown him for a minor loop. She looked down at a spot on the bed, which he moved from so as to welcome her presence. Sitting down next to him, there was no shame in her movements, only a mild bit of shyness now apparent in her eyes. “Last night was.. well-“

“It was really fun,” Jason replied, which brought another, small smile to her lips. “I.. uh, well.. I did more than I expected to, last night, huh?”

“Like sucking my cock?”

He blushed. “Yes.”

“Twice?”

“I did?”

Poison laughed mildly. “Much better the second time around, too. Especially after I helped show how to dee—“

He briefly covered his face. “Oh my god, wow. I was such a slut last night,” he said half-jokingly. “I mean, that’s not bad—“

“Yes, it was fun, wasn’t it?” 

“…yeah, yeah actually. It was.”

“You get used to it, Hotshot, don’t worry. Though it wasn’t all slutty, I distinctly recall the night ending with you in my arms, sucking on my boobs while I jerked you off, calling you my good bo—“

The expression coming upon his face slowed her speech, finding it devilishly wholesome, considering. Her eyes briefly tracked the tent in her sheets nearby, then flittered her gaze from that to him. “Like I said, it was fun. But you can-“

“Wanna get some breakfast?” Jason asked in earnest. “O-or.. lunch, or.. brunch??”

Poison remained silent, the look upon her face a mixture of intrigue and shock. Another emotion lay beneath, less discerning but clear enough for him. 

Comfort. 

Having seemingly been caught off-guard initially, her relaxed nature returned, now leaning into his suggestion. “I’d.. like that very much.” A pause. “Though, uhm.. it might not be the best idea to walk out there with that showing.” Her pointer finger reached out, tapping the top of his tent. “Unless you don’t care. Which, in that case..”

Jason’s eyes focused squarely upon it. “Yeah, that, uh.. I woke up with it.”

“Yes, that is indeed how morning wood works, sweetie. I hate it, personally, but I also love it – on the mornings I get to dawdle, at least..”

“Well, you haven’t exactly helped mine—I mean, I’m not complaining – but I just – I didn’t mean to-“

She leaned slightly back, emphasizing the curve of her body. Her right arm moved, coming up to rest right under her ample chest. “Like what you see?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” He shot back, recalling the night before. He wore his own mild smirk. 

“ _Smooth._ ” Her eyes moved towards his covered cock, then to him, then back at the cock. “Need help with that, then?”

With a mild shake of the head, he responded sweetly. “N-No.. no, it’s okay, I don’t need to—you don’t need to-“ In seconds, the embrace of silk was torn away, unveiling his painfully hard erection to the open air. He hissed lightly. No panic set in, but his stomach fluttered with that familiar feeling nonetheless. The urge, the anticipation. With a soft coo, she moved, clamoring more onto the bed to position herself comfortably between his legs. Her body moved downward, his cock sliding between her breasts to then rest upon a slender hand, its nimble fingers carefully gripping his sex. Teasingly, she would pump his length nonchalantly every beat or so – as his body sunk into the mattress with a groan, his cock twitching with an insatiable need.

“You’re so worked up,” she said. “ _Still._ ”

“Due in part to.. well, you – you already know. You really don’t – mmph – you really don’t have to – oh, _fuck_ – it’s fine, really. You just had a shower, I’ll go – I’ll go clean up.”

She didn’t respond immediately, opting instead to gaze from his oozing cockhead to deep in his eyes. “Make me dirty again,” she said huskily, then pressed a kiss to his glans.

—

Pete’s Diner wasn’t the best, no diner truly was, but it was good _enough._ It carried that homely sense of charm, looking and smelling moderately well, with only a hint of the proverbial city ‘slime’ draping its design. The food was good, he knew that much. Idly, he watched the cars on the street pass by, before his eyes drew from the sight of continuous traffic – to that of his lover. Her apparel differed considerably to what he had known. A warm, ivory-clad summer dress, with sunglasses folded into the nape of her top. Her hair remained fixed, strung together by a bow behind her. She popped a french fry between her lips, idly browsing her phone. He checked the time on his own. 

2:25 PM

Getting ready took.. longer than expected. 

Not that either of them had complained.

Jason forked a cut-piece of moist pancake into his mouth, eyeing her wearily. “So,” he chewed, avoiding potential disgust from her. “Whaddya do for a living, anyway?” A pause. Her eyes flicked towards him as she dipped another french fry into her milkshake – chocolate, with whipped cream and sprinkles. “If you don’t mind my askin’,” he added quickly. “You made a slight mention of it earlier.”

She pointed the half-fry towards him inquisitively. “You first,” she offered. 

He hesitated slightly. “College dropout, struggling writer, current assistant at the local radio station.”

Her eyes lit up. “K573.01? The _Jam?_ ”

He held-smiled. “The very same.” He paused. “I work part-time there, actually, but.. well, you know.”

“Do I?”

He blushed. “Hopefully.”

She tossed a fry onto his plate. “You’re cute.”

“And curious,” he added. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

With a wiggle of her brows, she started. “Well, darling. I’m the head honcho of the local wrestling federation in town. Occasionally, I model for magazines too. Oh, and I was in a band.” She sipped more from her chocolate dessert. “One-hit wonder, but,” a smile creased her lips after licking the bits of dessert from her mouth away, “it was fun.”

“Wait, wait— holy shit, hang on, you run the HWA?” Jason’s mind lit up with a flurry of excited thoughts. He mocked a slap against his forehead. “That’s where I might’ve seen you!” 

“Very possible,” she confirmed. “Though I like to mix it up, you know. Different colored hair, lipstick, outfits, et cetera.. I started the gig with me and an old friend of mine. You might’ve seen him, once or twice. Big guy, likes to-“

“Tombstone his opponents. Yeah.. Jobbers certainly see him.. a lot.”

She smirked. “Sometimes the booked talent isn’t all that fancy. Low attendance, low ratings.. for a long time, I feared I’d have to shut it all down.. until I came in and started kicking some ass, myself.” She dipped yet another fry in the remainder of her milkshake, then stuck it towards him – he accepted willingly. “Good boy.” She wiped at her mouth with a spare napkin as he chewed. “Anyway, it’s tough work – but I’m damn proud of it.”

“Hell yeah, I’d be proud too – I mean, how could I not?” He finished the rest of his pancakes as she not so slyly took several pieces of bacon from his plate. “I think that’s,” he paused, chewing, “I think that’s really fuckin’ cool, P. I love wrestling.”

“Me too. Also.. ‘P’?”

He shrugged. “Work in-progress.” Drawing a swig from his Diet Commando Cola, he briefly pondered what to say next. Then, a wave of awkwardness washed over him. A thought nestling its way into the forefront of his mind. “You.. do you know _my_ name, right?” His ask was sheepish, yet honest.

“Yes, Jason. Or as your friends call you: J-Man.” She giggled, he cringed. “Loose lips last night there, big boy. But that’s good. A real man isn’t afraid to open up.”

“I never considered what a ‘real man’ might do in my situation.”

Poison answered for him. “Show me a good time, that’s what. And you did. So,” she mocked a mild applause, “golf clap for you, sir.” She downed the rest of her milkshake, then licked her lips. “Besides, a real man can wear Captain Commando boxer-briefs _and_ suck me off. So.. you know, net gain.”

“Do I?” 

“Wear official Captain Commando undies, suck cock, or both?”

“No, I meant in response to your ‘you kno’—on, y’know, on second thought, forget my snark.” He forwarded the subject along. “Speaking of cock.”

“One of my favorite topics.”

“Yours is.. wow, to say the least, but I never did that before. I wanted to, but-“

“Heh. I popped your cherry.” She idly popped her fingers, giving her knuckles a crack as she teased. “Several, it seems.”

“I’m saying – shit, what am I – okay, I know.” Jason cleared his throat. “I’m saying: I would.. like to.. do that again, if you don’t mind.”

“You wanna date?” She asked. “Or suck my cock?”

“I don—I didn’t say, I mean, sure, maybe? Both? Labels are dumb and I like my space and I get busy sometimes, but-“ He slowed, controlling the flow of anxiety. “I like you. And I want to see you again. Date, friends with benefits, fuck-buddies, glory-hole amigos; whatever you want.” His pause was short, but wrought with a kind of tension. “Uh.. thoughts?”

Poison eyed him with several looks, one of incredulity and another with surprise. She made him wait, made him silently work for inevitable response. Leaned back, a small smile came upon her face – her features veering ever so slightly towards contentedness. “My, another word and you’ll damn well have me bent over this table, skirt up, with you just going to town, won’t you?” He blushed, which brought a mild laugh out of them both. She sucked her teeth. “Sure, Jason – let’s do it. I mean, why not? I like fun. You’re fun. Don’t know what else to call it other than that. Definitely open, though.”

“Yeah, sure.” He conducted himself more professionally as he spoke now. She noticed, making a mental note. “Totally open and freeform,” he said. “No worries, no big deal. Just you and me, hanging out.”

A solid beat when by with no further talk, until their waitress rolled by on her skates to deliver a warm smile and their check. The pair both reached to pay for it, to which Poison made a face. “All right, Hotshot.” She relinquished her touch from the bill, maintaining her own sense of composure. “To commemorate this joyous day: What say you make up for paying the bill by fucking me some more when we get out of here? Then, maybe, you can tell me a little about what you like to write. After that, maybe I get you backstage access for the HWA gig tonight..” Her finger danced up and down his forearm, drawing the goose flesh to a head. He shivered underneath her touch. “Sound good?”

He couldn’t help but wear a goofy smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

She matched his expression. “Good boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [@RichmanBachard](https://twitter.com/RichmanBachard) to keep up with me and my insanity.


	4. Kayfabe? Sure, Babe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason attends a wrestling venue in the city, and Poison makes the most of it.

The wrestler took a heavy fall, quickly falling victim to yet another tombstone from his much, much bulkier foe. The crowd roared with a thunderous applause at the visceral display of theatrical carnage. Woe to the Heel, the Face looked to reign supreme that night.

Jason watched, smiling, sipping contently from the swill in his glass. The bar and grill of the venue offered good enough grub but he preferred a lighter palette that night. He considered a beer, just one, but opted for something simpler. 

Pink lemonade wasn’t quite the ‘something simpler’ he initially had in mind, but Jason was partial to the taste. A classic.

His eyes tracked the wide frame of the opposing wrestler, himself assured of his forthcoming victory. Clad in a bright pink unitard, he stood close to eight feet tall. Man was damn near a behemoth made flesh. From what Jason could recall of the story so far in terms of reception, it took time for his image as a Face to grow – for him, of course, but largely for the audience. What _mattered_ was that the current arc made for a turn that was good for numbers. Radio, blogs, social media – his face-turn made decent headway, something podcasters would enjoy debating the merit of. But something was.. lacking. Hugo presented – not exactly a conventional sort of charisma, not so silver-tongued – rather, a gentle giant quality that imbued him with a certain kind of sympathy. Not just that, but his ferocity in combat was appealing. It wasn’t in spite of, but _because_ of his voracious set of moves that people cheered him on. It was a working mixture. People cheered for him; for his attacks. The Tombstone, the Clothesline from Hell, and last but certainly not least, the lauded Big Frog Splash Bash – a move unlikely for someone of his build, yet he managed with a shocking level of finesse. It was Jason’s favorite. It paired favorably with The Crushinator’s infamous High Five Hold. 

So what _was_ the missing component, then? Jason pondered the thought idly until the atrium darkened suddenly, some remaining lights flickering purposely as the large, sweeping view-screen exploded with color. Notably, the color pink.

Jason briefly glanced down at his drink with a faint, surprised smile.

As the screen continued airing her intro, the atrium echoing her song, she soon stepped into view to a vast mixture of cheers and boos. Clad in a dress fit for business, she glanced around the room with a wry smirk. Jason’s eyes fell upon her with gleeful admiration. She was in control, in her element. With a raise of the hand the room fell silent alongside the music. Her other hand brought a mic into view, the cool chatter of the crowd faint but evident as they awaited a word from the Boss. 

What followed was a careful display of tact and ownership. Her words spilled forth with a laser-precise viciousness as Hugo’s face twisted with confusion, slowly. She stepped closer – the _tap-tap-tap_ of her heels clacking sharply against the ramp as she descended it, while maintaining her growing sense of vitriol.

In turn, Hugo fetched a mic of his own – by the good graces of a nearby ref doing him a favor with a lucky toss from afar – and shot back several half-hearted retorts of his own.

His mic skills.. left much to be desired, as he taunted his former manager. She mocked an expression of shock before slipping into the ring with ease, drawing out the theatrics of it. What followed was a heated debate between the two. Former mentor and protégé, current manager and former body-guard. Kayfabe or no, the verbal display was enjoyable. Years of history condensed into a single confrontation. Blood had been spilled on both sides, in the past, both were flawed icons—which made for more complicated marketing in terms of character reception.

That was the _draw_ of the HWA, though. Unlike other, rosier wrestling venues Poison prided herself on featuring dirtier, more complex stories. Heroes and villains, gods and monsters, sure – but also the grit and grime of the gray in-between it all. Her and Hugo were no exception.

In his turn as a Face, it was performing _measurably_ well but it lacked one, important component.

During a heated moment, Hugo slipped up and out slipped a guilty admission which made her face turn. She stepped away, basking in a disappointed aftermath. Then, after a beat and with a faint sneer creasing her lips, with a flick of the wrist she drew her deadly whip – its serrated embrace quickly coiling around his neck, yanking him closer. He tumbled to the ground hard, having been flipped upside down. She lashed him thrice more, then pulled him again in a display of her own measurable strength – which resulted in a hard kick forward from her foot. Hugo was sent flying back, across the ropes and into the commentators desk.

To the onlooker, there ended the business relationship between the two. Thus, a certain kind of rivalry was born.

And they _ate_ it up. Jason included. The crowd went wild.

Poison smiled into the microphone, the crowd eating up everything she deemed them worthy of giving. She mustered only a handful of words next, the rest having been conveyed effectively from her prior actions and body-language alone. 

“Was it good for you, too?” she asked them all, teasingly. The last few words, sweet and poisonous in equal measure. Then, she dropped the mic and exited the ring with a careful swiftness only she knew how to pull off. Hugo rolled to his side, as the referees rushed over to tend to his wounds.

As her song played once more, she further drank in the sight of the crowd. Many of them with adoring eyes and complimentary signs; others with more displeased looks, and boos to boot. 

She couldn’t quite spot him in the crowd, but she knew. 

When she winked, Jason’s heart fluttered.

—

To any passers by, the door to her office remained lock. Seemingly none the wiser, none bothered to interrupt whatever it was she might have been up to. Knowing Poison, it could have been a variety of things. Responding to phone calls, emails. Making deals. Coordinating future events. Par for the course, most nights. Especially in the wake of particularly successful venue earnings. She was a good boss, a good manager. The business was important to her, but the people moreso. 

Yet with the mild shake of the desk, random knick-knacks wobbling to and fro until some toppled over, something else was far more important to her – a different kind of business. More physical and heated, sticky and sweet.

Work could wait… mostly.

The soft clapping of flesh was drowned out by the variety of noises outside, yet their shared moans aired strongly enough. Bent over the desk, she could hardly stifle the moans from her throat as she replied to an important text on her phone. No choice. Cheekily, Jason rutted into her at an aggressive pace, her ass smacking against his pelvis with a consistent force. 

Before the show, she had relieved some pressure thanks to his eager mouth. Yet the latter was left without such relief, due to her being needed elsewhere. Left to stir in that uncomfortable, anxious, denied pleasure. It wasn’t the plan, merely a stroke of misfortune. But in hindsight, Poison found it to be the preferred option as he employed his most aggressive, needy servicing of her yet. She laid her phone down, fingers gripping the edge of her desk. With hisses and moans accompanying their tryst, she relished the feeling. One hand gripped her shoulder tightly, with affection. The other dug into the supple cheek of her ass, as the firm flesh rippled faintly from each pleasurable blow. Not many words had been muttered between the two since their heated display, they were to the point with their lovemaking, now lost in the moment.

A knock at the door surprised them both, however, pulling them back to reality. His movements slowed to something less than desirable in her eyes. He stammered over himself, yet she took the lead. “Just a moment!” Her response was quick, acknowledging the knocks. Yet more came. “Finishing up an important p-phone-call!” On the other side, a member of security had – muffled as it was – began to update her on the status of their guests and the flow of the crowd during the post show. Jason was taken aback by her skill. Of course she remained skilled, no matter the obstacle she endured. She almost slipped, once, but his continued thrusting hadn’t deterred her sense of professionalism. No matter how playful his movements became. 

She whipped her head back, an intense eye beaming at him over her shoulder. He responded in kind with a sheepish smile. 

For weeks it had gone like this, pleasant encounters peppered with moments of mischief and misfortune. For two people dating, it was assuredly the most _fun_ he had in quite some time. As it would seem, she happened to feel similarly.

Her own thrusting egged him on as the conversation built, continuing onward. He reciprocated, meeting her thrusts halfway. 

When his end came, it hit him hard and fast, faster than he would have liked but the hours of blue-balling beforehand led to an untimely, if intense, end. In spite of that she relished the feel of him sowing his seed deep within her. What made her cum in response wasn’t his end, though. Rather, it was his needy embrace of her body. His head against her shoulder, his arms around her. _That_ brought her to the end.

The security officer left, leaving the boss to her own devices. With a heavy sigh – in relief but also mild exhaustion and annoyance – she leaned back into his embrace. Soon, a playful smirk filled her features. “Ready to go again?”

His groan was as pleasurable as it was pained. The boss always gets what she wants.


	5. New Horizons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One sweet night, an admission comes to light.

In the weeks that followed, their relationship had blossomed into something they both found themselves wanting more of. They had their fun, on the side. A recent ménage á trois with a female wrestler he was fond of was emblematic enough. Things remained low maintenance, they had their own lives to live, but it was.. nice. When they went to bed together, he would wrap himself in her arms, betwixt her soft embrace. And she welcomed it. To fall asleep, a small smile creasing her lips as she drifted off, made for a luxury not many could afford so well.

When he surprised her with an idea one morning, she knew things would change. For the better. The idea made her ache, made her salivate with need. She ensured that it really was what he wanted. In confirmation and assurance, she was more than happy to oblige.

More, _more_ than happy.

—

Naked, clean, and eager – Jason readjusted his self upon the bed, its familiar, silky embrace reassuring his posture. Sheepishly he spread his legs for her, moseying them from side to side in order to accommodate her forthcoming presence. Her touch remained tender, no matter how firm and eager and desperate it clearly appeared to them at the time. Not that he minded. With the room darkened, illuminated only by the soft lighting of candles, the pleasant smell of lilac and rosemary kept the scene luscious and comfortable. Despite the lower level of light, he drank in the visage of her shapely form – all lean muscle and thick curves. She wore nothing but her hat, cheekily, her notable handcuffs currently affixed to his wrists which were above his head. Jason’s idea, the minx. 

Her nimble fingers moved tentatively, trailing from the hem of his jawline, leading down his body until she wrapped those same, dutiful fingers around his manhood, itself aroused and twitching in response to her touch. He moaned heartily despite a mild hiss, the ring around the base of his cock tightening with each twitch of pleasure from such carnal flesh. She then leaned close, kissing him so deeply upon the lips he saw stars, and pulled back soon after, moving her other hand.

“Ready?” she asked, waiting for his command. “This is about what’s comfortable, and I want you comfortable.” 

Despite the look of beet-red across his cheeks, there was no hesitation in his voice. Only butterflies in his stomach. With a firm nod and a sweet, if eager, smile, he confirmed, “I’m ready.”

Poison moaned in response, how loud and needy it was making him shiver. To call Poison ‘uncharacteristically horny’ would be a façade, most days. Yet something about her that night had entirely sent him over the edge – something he would remember fondly for years to come.

With her index and middle fingers already slick with lube, they glossed slowly across his clean, sensitive bud. He shivered as her other hand pumped his length mildly, splitting his attention between two ounces of pleasure – one pained but delicious, the other sensitive and new. He let go. With a closing of the eyes, he gave himself up to her. Everything that he was, nestled in the palm of her hands. And she relished every second of his complete and utter vulnerability.

Her fingers prodded his pucker, wearing down its defenses until, slowly, a finger slipped inside the sensitive bud. In return she was rewarded with several sharp, mild gasps. A tiny mewl. Then, a breathless noise she could not quite describe. With every push and pull, she drew from him yet another, delicious noise. That remained the operative word. _Delicious._ Per her sense of insatiable lust and cheeky mischief, another finger pushed its way inside him regardless of protest. Luckily for her there weren’t any for him to give. He could hardly verbalize a word of encouragement, let alone the energy to resist. To her shock – as well as her delight – her lover was slowly regressing into nothing more than a quivering mass of flesh, eager for her next move. Nothing more, nothing less.

_Good_ , she thought delightedly. 

Her fingers – nimble as ever – drug across the even more sensitive nub inside him, the little chestnut of unbridled pleasure just waiting to be coaxed into something heated, something more. Within seconds, cum oozed from his reddened glans in droves which she couldn’t help but croon over her. She continued her ministrations, working him over at a sensitive, rigorous pace. 

“That feel good, baby?” she asked, just as much for herself as it was for him, which he readily confirmed between the occasional, tiny mewl. “Mmm, I can’t wait to feel you—to feel-“ Her own, growing moans began to set her off-balance. Jason’s groaning aside, _she_ needed this. More than anything she had needed in a long time. To pleasure someone so deeply, to plunge within and coax a new sense of euphoria from another’s being. More than that, his submissive acceptance and trust in Poison for her to take him. To take something from him and stuff the rest full. Her heart could not help but flutter at the thought. His acceptance, his trust, his need. For her, for _them_. 

Another finger added, and more pumps followed. More ooze, more ounces of his pleasure spilling forth. She leaned forward to swipe some of it away, briefly tonguing his glans with a thirsty swirl—her throat a touch parched, how could it not during such a tryst?

She arched her back then, presenting to him another illustrious view of her body. With that came another twitch of his sex. She could have made a game of that, but it wasn’t enough to tease the little button within him, she was getting him _ready._

Her own cock twitched with need, desperate to feel the soft, velvety confines of somewhere warm and wet. To feel him. Stifling the means of her pleasure so far, her focus had remained squarely upon his own.

He barely managed coherent words over the last few minutes, but he mustered the will to gasp, “Oh, _fuck._ ” He groaned once more, music to her ears. “Fuck, I think I’m ready for more. I think – I think I..”

Poison’s careful assault soon slowed, her eyes filled with excitement as well as hesitance. “Are you sure?” She pumped him nonchalantly as she awaited a response. “I want this, so bad.. but I want _you_ to want this, but only if you’re sure, baby. This is about-“

“I love you,” he blurted, which brought a mild shock to her heart as well as his own. “I – oh, shit – I just.. fuck me, take me, don’t hold back. Please. Fill me up, make me yours.”

Her smile remained soft, but ever creasing. Withdrawing her hands, they moved to prepare herself for what was to come next. Applying a healthy applicant of lube, she rubbed it along her cock – up and down, thorough in her motions. Tightening her grip upon the upstroke, then loosening softly downward. 

She couldn’t help but draw it out, in spite of her own excitement. His whining only sweetened the pot.

When she prodded his entrance tentatively, the head slipping past its defenses one by one, his gasps built in tempo until more of her sex came in, filling him. Jason winced at the intrusion, which made her pause. “Need me to stop?” she asked. “I will.”

“N-No, no.. keep going.”

Maintaining position, she continued, allowing him to grow accustomed to the feel of her. Every detail and inch, how deep it felt. What started as an intriguing discomfort had soon developed into something more. As she brought herself closer to the hilt his pleasure grew, as did her own. 

His voice mustered a wheeze, one of awe but also encouragement. “Oh.. ah.. ah.. ff.. oooh, keep – keep, yeah-“ His moans returned sharply as his ass clapped against her pelvis. In a shared display of relief, he was now hers to claim, no matter the pace in which they went. Jason’s hands begged to occupy themselves with something – with _anything._ Though they were bound, he moved them from above his head to her body; to her own hands, then her breasts, but soon the grip of one of her hands pushed back—keeping them above his head once more. 

Jason’s bottom lip trembled, his mind going blank from the pleasure. In the heated, luscious haze, he lost his sense of self amidst his connection to her – both figurative and literal. To be rutted into, to encourage and indulge her pace and possessiveness – it should have shocked him, how quickly he fell into loving this, but it did not. Now, he only wanted more.

With a soft, sudden cry, further pleasure spewed from his tip, a copious stream splattering his abdomen and chest. Poison expelled something between a moan and a laugh at his peak, feeling her own soon approaching. 

Before another whine could spill from his lips, she leaned forward yet again. Positioned above him, her tits in his face, he couldn’t help but pepper them with kisses and licks, suckling her pierced nipples left to right, to the best of his (currently halved) abilities. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” was all she could muster. She wanted to draw it out, to extend their pleasurable bout for as long as she possibly could. Yet with her cork soon to pop, she wanted it badly enough to push herself over the edge. She whispered to him that she was close, which he responded in kind with his own, hushed want of it. 

On command, she brought him to the hilt as everything went white. Amidst a shared, yearn-filled groan, she came inside him. 

—

Amidst the afterglow, they had cleaned themselves off and cooled down. As such, she now held him closely in her arms. His body shivered, having been wracked by the shocks of his intense, post-orgasmic stupor. She pressed a kiss upon the back of his neck before whispering a needy admission of her into his ear, tickling the gooseflesh of his skin. 

“ _I love you, too_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow [@RichmanBachard](https://twitter.com/RichmanBachard) and [@RichmanSFW](https://twitter.com/RichmanSFW) to keep up with my stories, my commission info, and my insanity.


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